


001_f1rst_t1m3.dxp

by littlebirb



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Face-Fucking, Gay, Gay Sex, Intimidation, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, tyrelliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirb/pseuds/littlebirb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyrell is a shark. Anyone with any sense would run. Elliot's not an idiot...<br/>...but why does he keep coming back? </p><p> </p><p>Short Smut Drabble for Tyrelliot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	001_f1rst_t1m3.dxp

The door that was staring him down, was winning. Elliot couldn’t ring the bell. _Thump, thump, thump._ His heart must have been audible. He wouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. What lay behind the door terrified the **shit** out of him. It was cold, and he was pacing. No, he couldn't–

His panicked train of thought was interrupted by a click. _Fuck what was–_ Tyrell’s pale blue eyes bored into him, and he looked down quickly. His stare was very heavy. Elliot didn’t like what was behind it. Tyrell would consume him. Devour him. Destroy him. Panicked breaths, and he was only able to manage a few words. “How did you…?” It trailed off into something vaguely resembling a question.

“I have CCTV, Elliot.” Tyrell murmured, eyes flicking to the security camera behind Elliot.

Elliot hadn’t even noticed… _Idiot,_ he usually checked. Why hadn’t he thought? He always looked for the cameras… No wonder he’d felt on edge. Eyes on him. Always watching. Everyone was always fucking watching. How long had Tyrell been looking at him? Did he want Elliot anxious? Did he enjoy it? He didn’t need the answer to the last question, he already knew it. The man was sadistic.

Tyrell’s voice washed over him, and he forced himself to tune back in. “–to see you’re sober. That’s pleasing.” Despite it sounding positive the words were sharp. Sober, a nicer word for coming down. Tyrell held no smile. He was going to be eaten. Elliot knew that the other man was aware he was still using, but Elliot didn’t mind. As long as Tyrell didn’t intervene physically, he’d keep coming back.

“I’m bending the rules for you, you know.” The door was left open, Tyrell turning his back, yet still speaking. Elliot, like the obedient dog he became around Tyrell, followed quickly, closing the door behind him, awkwardly fumbling with the complicated lock, hands sweaty, having difficulty with such a simple task.

“…no toys in the house. Unless there’s sharing.” He was waving his hands around. What did that mean? Was he talking about his marriage? Was that all he was to Tyrell, a toy? It didn’t surprise him. He could be chewed up and thrown out in a matter of moments. Disposable. Surely a man like Tyrell was only interested in him aesthetically. Elliot couldn’t see any other reason… He was still talking, and Elliot hoped he hadn’t missed anything important.

“–is out for a week to visit her mother. There shall be no sex tonight.” Who? His wife? It could only be his wife, _surely_.

No sex? Then why was he here? “N… None…?”

Tyrell gave Elliot a bright smile, moving into the kitchen. “Not in the traditional sense.” He was handed an opened beer. It was warmed, and dark. Elliot wouldn’t like it. He picked up the bottle, rolling it in his hands. Carnegie Porter. It wasn’t in English. Swedish, he assumed, at least from reading Tyrell’s Facebook…

“I want to watch you touch yourself.” Tyrell stated, causing Elliot to choke before he’d even taken a sip his beer. He looked up quickly, and saw Tyrell had a rather serious look on his face. _Oh fuck_ , he was going to destroy him.

“Whenever you’re ready, of course… I have all week.” He laughed, sitting down directly opposite, beer in hand, eyes watching intently.

Elliot was sure Tyrell could hear his heartbeat. He was an apex predator. Top of the food chain. Which made him prey. He was just a tech… Tyrell was an executive, very much a shark, and going to swallow him whole.

He set the beer down. It wasn’t very nice anyway, not sweet enough for his tastes. Very unsure of himself, as per usual, he began to undo the button on his jeans.

Tyrell shook his head, and he stopped, panicking. Was that not what he’d been asked to do? How’d he fucked this up, shit, what was Tyrell going to make him do.

“Are you not going to remove your shirt for me? There’s not much to look at…” Tyrell frowned.

Shaking hands moved to the jacket, and t-shirt which he pulled over his head, and tossed aside. Elliot saw Tyrell’s jaw tense, and his eyes flicker to the floor, where the t-shirt lay discarded. Fuck he’d made a mess, he’d pay for that later… Slowly he bent over to pick it up, and drape it over the edge of the sofa. This seemed to both relax and please Tyrell who resumed watching.

Once again he returned to his waistband, fumbling with the buckle. Glancing up at Tyrell. Unable to manage it, glancing back down. Glancing up, the button slipping out of his fingers. Slowly turning red as he fails, glancing at Tyrell. Looking down, feeling his cheeks burn at his incompetence. Years pass, and he finally tugs down his trousers to his ankles. He’s unsure, but he knows Tyrell wants to see all of him. There’s an awkwardness in the air, perhaps only he can feel. He’s not unhappy about the situation, he’s just uncomfortable due to new surroundings.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a hand up, and he freezes. Tyrell has set his beer down. “Are you uncomfortable Elliot? Do you not wish to continue this?” He asks, genuine concern splashed across his face for a moment. His blue eyes are staring directly at Elliot, and for a moment Elliot believes Tyrell can see right into his source code.

“No I… I… I’ve never… before. But I want…”

“I see. There’s a lot you’re doing for the first time with me Elliot. There’ll be more to come. Please. Continue. I don’t mind you taking your time.” He smiles, concern disappearing from his eyes, reaching for his beer bottle.

Elliot put a hand into his underwear, and with the other pulled his boxers down, and flicked them off, landing with the rest of his clothes. He wrapped a hand around his cock, already half hard. It was just Tyrell. He put him on edge, like nobody else, and his body responded accordingly. No wonder he needed to be numb to even talk to the man. He was terrifying. Dangerous. And yet Elliot always came back. It didn’t take much, and a few strokes later, Elliot was quite hard. His eyes kept flicking over to Tyrell, who seemed to have a half amused look on his face.

He stroked his shaft, slowly at first, before he quickened the pace, any reservations or nerves he’d had slowly dissipating. He could do this. Just slowing down what he normally did. Pretend Tyrell wasn’t watching his every move. Easier said than done.  
His thumb reached the head, and he rubbed the slit gently, tensing a little as he did so, before moving back down to the shaft. Fuck that was good.

“Slowly.”

Elliot did as he was told, remembering Tyrell was watching, and slowed down, to the approval of the other man. In his next glance up, he could see Tyrell was nearly fully hard already…

The first few beads of pre-cum began to leak, Elliot moving back up to the head, slowly moving his thumb over it.

“A word of warning Elliot.” Tyrell announced. “Come anywhere on my sofa or floor… anywhere else in this house for that matter, and I’ll kill you.” He stared with intense eyes, and paused, before letting out a rather manic laugh. “Joking, but I will make you lick it up.” He warned.

Elliot nodded with a gulp, angling his direction toward himself. He felt himself nearing the edge, growing sweatier, and he couldn’t help himself.

“No… Not yet.”

At Tyrell’s command, he slowed down, but shook his head. “I’m gonna… I can’t…”

“I know you’re close. I said not yet.” A few agonising minutes of rubbing his shaft raw ensued before Elliot was finally given a nod, permission to come.

He sped up, letting out a loud moan, practically spasming as he came over himself, and melted back into the sofa, leather sticking to his skin as he panted.

Tyrell thought he was wondrous. Others may pass Elliot off as geeky, socially awkward, or they might completely ignore him. But Tyrell had seen him… He’d seen what lay behind those nervous eyes. A brain that could take down the world, a mind that could cause an apocalypse, and he wanted it.

The executive stood up, moving towards Elliot.  
“Good boy.” He praised, fingers gently caressing Elliot’s jaw. Elliot went to reach for his underwear, going to use it to clean himself up.  
But Tyrell beat him to it, wiping Elliot’s chest, folding the underwear, and tucking it into his back pocket. Later use, perhaps, he thought.

Elliot made eye contact with Tyrell, who smiled, watching the tech glance awkwardly at his crotch once more. “Perhaps y…ou should do …some…t –thing about…” he muttered, eyes staring directly at Tyrell’s groin.

“Maybe you should.” Tyrell stated plainly, unbuckling his belt, and removing it. He unzipped his trousers, only moving a little fabric to free himself. As per usual, he was not wearing underwear.

Obediently, Elliot opens his mouth, sucking on the tip of Tyrell’s cock. He knows exactly what to do, only hesitating a little. He looks up, mouth full, unable to tear his eyes away from Tyrell. Those fucking eyes, he didn’t know what they meant and it scared the shit out of him. Tyrell was dangerous, a Trojan ready to infect, and yet here he was, inviting him in.  
He bobbed his head, taking more of the executive’s shaft in his mouth, using his tongue for friction. Very carefully, he runs his teeth down Tyrell’s length, who tenses under his touch.

He feels Tyrell’s hand slipping up behind his head. It’s comforting, being held… He doesn’t think much of it, and continues. The hand turns violent, grips his hair, rather tightly, pulling his head back, and holding it in place. Obviously his subtle attempt at control was not subtle enough, and any control he did have was now gone. The teeth were not appreciated it seemed. He’d done it now, he’d fucked himself. Tyrell was going to eat him.

Tyrell was aggressive. Perhaps business had made him cutthroat? Perhaps he’d always been like this. Elliot didn’t have much time to contemplate, starting to gag on Tyrell’s cock.  
The executive was pushing his cock down Elliot’s throat, gyrating his hips as he did so, a guttural moan escaping his lips. Elliot, once he snapped back to reality, complied, letting Tyrell face fuck him, putting his head back, as Tyrell held him in place.

A few thrusts more thrusts, in and out, and Elliot was swallowing Tyrell’s load. He’d gone to spit once, and the other man had held his cheeks and made him swallow it. It would have been messy otherwise.

Tyrell discarded Elliot, using his underwear to wipe off his dick, before he tucked himself back into his trousers.

“It seems I’m all about bending rules today. You can spent the night if you want…” He smiled, picking up his beer, and moving out of the view of the sofa.

Elliot slumped, scooping up his clothes, and trying to quickly put them back on, beginning to feel exposed. Fuck. Tyrell was going to kill him. Tyrell was his malware. Tyrell was going to be the end of him.

_And he didn’t care._


End file.
